The Death of Charn
by snowygrin
Summary: An ancient rule has been broken, a valuable piece stolen. War rages on like fire through the crumbling recesses of Charn. Death is in the air. Two powerful beings are striving for the throne. They started this. They will have to finish it.


The cobblestone streets were eerily silent. It was one of the last, terrifying, moments before the blood-curdling screams of battle arose. It was the hour before war would reach out it's talons and snatch each of it's helpless victims.

The only movement came from a tall, hooded figure. She moved steadily, her footsteps echoing loudly off of the stone alley. She stumbled occasionally on the uneven stones, but did not let it deter her as she made her way quickly through the forbidden streets, her dark cloak swirling behind her. She made her way without the slightest sign of hesitation, seeming to know each corner and shadow better than her own home.

She stopped at last in front of a particularly narrow cottage. It stood bracing itself against the other houses, which seemed to lean into it. The house was made of coarse, black rock that was so cold to the touch that it would cause whoever brushed against it to shrink back, aware that there was already to much of the cold and attempting to resist its frozen surface.

The figure reached out her hand from underneath the cloak, it was long and pale. The bones were thin and jutted out unnaturally. The skin that covered it was stretched and faded, giving the appearance of a skeleton. Yet despite all of this, her presence emanated strength.

She lifted her frail arm, knocking firmly on the wooden door. She waited for  
several moments. The door opened with a resounding creak that would have hurt the ears of anyone near by, a tall, plastery looking man stood in its place. One of his eyes was a fading white, showing his loss of sight. His lips pursed in a tight line and his eyes narrowed as he saw her.

"Remove your hood, stranger." His voice was old and dusty, as if it were an old hinge that hadn't been oiled for years, it scraped down her ear canal and settled into her depths.

"Let me enter, and I will reveal myself." She stepped inside, without invitation, shutting the door behind her. It no longer creaked, but shut with a muffled thud, as if afraid to make any sound in this stranger's presence.

She reached her slender arms up to her hood, the stranger noticed they shook slightly. She lifted it off hesitantly. The man's eyes widened with disbelief and horror,

"Loyal queen, forgive me! I did not recognize you." He lowered his head submissively, his half-seeing eyes still on her. She glanced at him warily, but her eyes passed over to a thin doorway in the back of the room.

"Let me see him, Klaus." Her voice was cold. Klaus nodded slowly, backing towards the doorway,

"Of course, Lady Shayndel." He nodded again and opened the door, which was thin and shriveled as if it were rotting slowly from the inside. He opened it and the queen rushed forward, entering the room, her posture indicated unnatural calm, but her eyes grew wide with desperation and fear.

A young boy, only the age of nine or ten, lay under a few thin, dirty sheets in a small bed. He was very pale, shaking in great pain with every ragged breath he took.

Queen Shayndel rushed over to him, she touched a hand to his forehead and quickly  
drew it back. The boy was burning with a fever.

"Klaus, how could you let this happen?" Klaus, who was standing, shaking his head at the doorframe, walked over and put his leathery hand on Shayndel's shoulder,

"I'm so sorry, he is fading quickly, you are lucky you came in time. The boy is at heaven's doorstep. He became sick so quickly there was nothing I could do. You were so busy with the oncoming war..." Shayndel shot a hot glare at him, but did not leave the small boy's side.

"You are foolish, Klaus! There is nothing in Charn that I love more than my son. Surely you of all people should know this! I cannot believe you have done this to him." Tears formed in her eyes, but she did not hide them. She turned away from Klaus, stroking the the sick boy, her son.

"You are of no use to me Klaus," She whispered coldly, pain in her eyes, "You have failed me and now our son. You are nothing to me." She turned away, her tone deepening, "No one must know of this. Do you understand?" Klaus nodded, pain etched in his expression as tears began to blur his vision.

Shayndel whispered a bitter, sour song of strange tones and undefinable words.  
Klaus knew it was magic. A healing charm. He also knew that this magic would be the start of a deadly war, but he kept all he wished to say to himself. The frail boy awoke from his sleep, a bitter bout of coughing racked his frail form.  
queen picked him up tenderly in her arms, cradling him. She turned purposefully towards the exit and began taking long strides in that direction.

"You will be destroyed." Klaus's voice was hoarse and quiet. Shayndel stopped, but did not turn. "You will be conquered, and our child destroyed." His tears fell heavily to the floor. "And there won't be anything that you can do." He broke off in a whimper.

Shayndel answered in a firm voice that was dripping with fear and anger,

"You are an ignorant fool, Klaus. You have no power over my future or my son's." She strode quickly out, not bothering to pull up her hood or close the door, leaving Klaus standing there, alone, dying of a broken heart with only his tears to comfort him.

* * *

Shayndel's painful memories were interrupted by the triumphant voice of her general,

"We should move now, your highness. Jadis's men are at their lowest. Charn is as good as ours." He smiled, his thin, black lips turning an ugly grey, his greasy, long, black hair falling into his face and causing distorted shadows to fall across his face in the fading light.

The queen nodded. She must conquer Jadis. She had to reclaim what was was  
hers. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the large, green charm that hung around her neck. It was an ancient present from her sister, and Shayndel was burdened by it more than ever. But she wanted to be wearing it, to see the look of desperation in her sister's eyes as Shayndel destroyed her.

She stood up, faltering slightly. Jadis had her son. She had taken him in the  
night, faster than a wolf, more cunning than a fox. Shayndel clenched her fists, causing her greying skin to look papery white.  
She would conquer Jadis, this she had decided.

* * *

The orange sun was disappearing behind the ancient streets. The tall, crooked  
buildings seeming to lean over further, as if wishing to follow the sun and the light that would soon vanish with it. The sky was splattered red, tainting the flawless golden clouds, not unlike the blood of innocents had done to the city. Even the three moons that were only just rising were glowing a haunted burgundy.

Shayndel dismounted her white stallion, his ears flicked dismissively. He no  
longer cared what happened to this world. He seemed to know and accept that its end was nearing.

She held her skirts up to her knees as she ran up the stairs, her long, black hair falling over her shoulders as it came undone from the ornate bun she had been wearing. Every step she took seemed to whisper of a nearing victory.

She reached the doors and paused, her green eyes burning with fury and envy.  
She stood motionless in front of the tall, heavy doors of the palace. She drew herself up to her full height, and whispered a word that no one could hear. Magic. The doors in front of her, which were tall, and carved with intricate patterns of ancient myths were blown off of their hinges by her power, as if a great wind had hit them.

Dying light poured in as Shayndel entered, exposing Jadis like a rat. She could  
see Jadis was trapped, a terror like that of child being torn away from its parents was set deep in Jadis's eyes and her mouth opened and closed involuntarily. At her side, was Shayndel's son. He was shaking, sweat and tears were pouring down his face as he tried to pull away from her, but Jadis gripped his wrist tightly, with no mercy or sign of letting go.

Jadis inhaled deeply, watching Shayndel stand there, black light pouring in  
behind her. Jadis closed her eyes and uttered a word quietly. Shayndel knew it was the deplorable word, and horror entered her expression. The whole world seemed to slow.

Shayndel watched as her son suddenly shriveled, crying out and crumpling to  
the floor, dead. The two sister's eyes met, untold emotions of hatred, power, and sadness were exchanged between them.  
Shayndel's knees shook and suddenly buckled beneath her. _No._ She thought, _No._


End file.
